This Is Where We Are
by urbandaily
Summary: Five times Sharon Raydor failed to keep a secret, and one time she didn't.
1. Chapter 1

_Five times Sharon Raydor failed to keep a secret, and one time she didn't. A series of unconnected scenes._

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_Disclaimer: I do not own._

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_One._

They fell out of her blazer pocket when she pulled the linings inside out, searching for her phone.

"Pants, Sharon." Rusty commented, eyeing the little notes that fluttered to the ground.

"Oh! That's right." Sharon murmured as she pulled the ringing contraption out of her back pocket. The three slips of paper had escaped her notice, but they hadn't escaped Rusty's. He picked them up; Sharon answered her phone.

"Yes, Lieutenant Tao?" She was saying, drifting away absentmindedly.

Rusty turned them over in his hands, unfolded them. There were names there, one written on each slip in a shaky script. What was —?

"What've you got there?" Sharon asked curiously, touching his shoulder lightly.

Rusty startled; he hadn't heard her end her call, nor had he heard her come up behind him. He folded the papers into his hand like a guilty little boy, and Sharon pulled her hand away from him just as quickly. Sometimes the tactile thing was still a little new.

"I – um," he opened his hand and extended it toward Sharon, who saw at once what was there and plucked them from his palm. "They fell out of your pocket." He mumbled. He didn't think he had crossed some sort of line or anything, but he tried to respect her privacy as much as he could, as a courtesy.

She smiled at him. "Thank you, Rusty."

She smiled more openly around him, these days. He knew that she didn't feel as if she had to put up walls around him anymore, and he appreciated that.

"What are – who are they? The names," he said. He assumed it to be an innocent question, but he felt bad when it made her smile falter. Something akin to pain flickered across her face. He could read her well these days - Captain's mask or no. This was important to her, but it was hurting her, too.

Sharon creased the papers meticulously, thinking about it. "Our . . . victims." She replied carefully. She didn't want to talk about it, he could see.

But he wasn't sure he understood. ". . . There are always victims, Sharon." He replied, not insensitively. "There are always victims, but you get justice for them."

She shook her head a little hesitantly. "Not this time." She said. She held the names lightly between her fingertips. "Rebecca Thomas, and her son and daughter, Liam and Ava. They were eight and six."

"What happened to them?"

She hesitated, but Rusty knew to be patient with her. "They'd been . . . chained to the basement ceiling beams of a meat locker for nearly two weeks. By their _father_. Bastard just . . . strung them up and left 'em there, and his scumbag lawyer is going to get him off on an _insanity_ plea. 'He didn't know what he was doing. He didn't mean it. He's sorry; he _loved them.'_" She shook her head in disgust. "It's despicable."

Sharon looked up at him then, startlingly earnest. "We . . . I made a mistake today. Made the wrong call, and because of that, this man will serve maybe a year in a criminal sanatorium before going up in front of the board." She paused, looking away for a second. There were no tears, but Sharon was not one to easily cry. She took a breath. "Lieutenant Flynn told me once that when working homicide, it's important to know the victims by name." She slipped the names back into her pocket again, patting it down. "I don't want to forget."

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_Two_.

"You . . . you knew. You knew this whole time and you never . . ." She inhaled sharply and he could almost see her trying to swallow down the panic.

"Sharon, we used to be friends. I can still read you like a book, sometimes; of course I could tell. I just . . . I wish you would've told me. I would've beaten him to a pulp for you." His hands clenched involuntarily even as he said it – he still hated that bastard.

"I never needed you to fight my battles for me." Sharon snapped, bristling, and he certainly knew this. Sharon Raydor was nothing if not strong, but she had this habit of keeping these things to herself, even when she didn't have to.

"He _never_ should have laid a hand on you."

She refused to meet his eyes, didn't respond to him. Her separation was still a sore spot for her – it humiliated her, maybe. "When did you figure it out?" She murmured instead.

There was a long silence.

". . . You flinched."

She gave him a funny look. "What are you –?"

"We were having an argument, Sharon. I reached out for you, and you flinched, like you thought I was going to strike you. Like . . . like you thought I was _capable_ . . ." He broke off, looking away. His lip curled. "I wanted to kill your husband just for that."

She scoffed; she remembered it too, the argument. "You didn't even like me, then." It had been after their falling out; after her transfer to IA.

"I never stopped caring about you."

Her mouth opened and closed wordlessly as she fumbled for a response. ". . . You never said anything to me." She said finally. "You never . . . I never knew that you knew."

"I didn't _want_ to say anything . . . it was after the two of you had separated, so I knew you were taking care of yourself. You were trying to pick yourself back up again, Sharon, and I didn't want to make it harder on you." He shrugged self-deprecatingly. "You could hardly stand to be in the same room with me at the time, anyway."

She hummed noncommittally.

"Sharon."

Flynn waited for her to look at him. "How long did it go on?" He asked, even though he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

She only snorted. "Go on? You think I let that bastard hit me more than once?" But there was that little flicker of panic in her eyes again, a desperate hope that he'd believe her.

If he were anyone else, he might not have caught it.

It hurt him, the notion that maybe she'd suffered more than he was prepared to accept. Perhaps she was only strong because Michael Raydor forced her to be.

She looked away again. "I walked away." She declaimed, avoiding his question. "Maybe I wasn't as strong then as I would have liked to be, but I learned to walk away, and I certainly never needed _saving, _Andy. Not by you; not by anyone."

"You've never needed it." He agreed. "But . . . didn't you ever think that maybe you'd earned it?"

Sharon raised her eyebrows in surprise. She chuckled. "That's a stupid notion," she informed him.

"You don't have to do everything alone, Sharon." He insisted. "You can let people take care of you sometimes, you know." His lips quirked.

"No I can't," She retorted, "I don't know how." But she wore a little smile of her own, and he had a thought that maybe, after all these years, she might finally let him in.

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_A/N: Thanks for reading! Did anyone catch the BSG reference? :)_

_If there is anything/anyone specific you want to see in one of the next scenes, drop me a suggestion with your review! ;)_

_Other than that, please tell me what you think! Reviews are love._


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks to all who read and reviewed! For those who missed the BSG reference, it was the whole Sharon-keeping-names-in-her-pocket thing. Laura Roslin did the same following the destruction of the Olympic Carrier . . . _

_Anyway, here's the third time Sharon failed to keep a secret:_

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_Three._

At first, he thought it was Amy Sykes. Besides the Captain, Sykes was the only other one new to the division, and he didn't know her all too well. As for Raydor, Tao had more or less worked with (or, when Brenda Leigh Johnson had been around, _against_) her for five years now, so he liked to think he knew her. Certainly he knew her well enough to conclude that _she_ wasn't the one sexing it up around the office after hours. The Captain was by no means frigid, but she still played by her rulebook.

_She probably wrote half those rules herself_, he thought. Especially the no-fraternization one.

So it had to be Amy Sykes, right? Because _someone_ had been screwing around, here – Tao could tell. People didn't think he caught on to these things (and alright, to be fair, he really _hadn't_ caught on when it had been Gabriel and Daniels, that one time), but he did. He _was_ a detective, after all. But this time, he thought he was actually the only one who could tell that there was something funny going on, here. Buzz was naïve like always; Provenza would've been the first to share his opinion on the matter if he knew – so obviously he didn't; Julio did his own thing (although it was entirely possible that he knew and just wasn't saying anything); and Flynn. . . Andy Flynn could actually be the other half of the issue. But he was good at hiding things when he wanted to, so maybe Tao was just crazy.

He wasn't.

He wheeled his chair over to Flynn's desk, searching for a report he needed for reference in order to finish his own. It was a Monday and a paperwork day – Andy told him he was welcome to just grab whatever he needed when he needed it. Andy was in the Captain's office, himself. Something about giving Rusty driving lessons.

Andy kept the usual things in his desk drawer – under the file, Tao found pens, pencils, Post-Its, paperclips, a beanbag (which Andy had never returned to the Captain) . . . and a lacy black slip of fabric. Women's underwear. He cringed and shut the drawer hastily, grabbing the file and wheeling back to his own desk. He was right! Although the idea was a little . . . unhygienic.

At his desk, Tao dispensed two pumps of hand sanitizer into his hands before getting back to his report.

Over the course of the day, Tao found himself glancing at Sykes every now and then, trying to determine if she was acting differently. He really didn't think so. _But if it wasn't Sykes, then . . ._

Everyone left a little early today because they actually could_, _and Tao was the last one there. It took him an ungodly amount of time to decipher Andy's hideously penned notes, but Tao had finally finished all of his own paperwork and was now ready to head out.

He was walking toward the elevator bank when he heard someone step out into the hallway behind him. He turned to acknowledge them, but upon seeing who it was, his greeting became surprised and uncertain.

"Ahm, hello, Captain."

Why was she still here? She'd been one of the first to leave. Her and . . .

_Her and Andy Flynn._

Holy crap.

He didn't realize he'd said that out loud until the Captain's head snapped up. He flicked his gaze to the door behind her. A supply closet. Sharon Raydor had been screwing in a _supply closet_. He looked back at her. She knew he knew.

The Captain schooled her features instantly. "I was just heading out, Lieutenant. I'll walk with you."

Tao's heart sank. Well this was going to be _highly_ uncomfortable.

They reached the elevator bank in silence, properly embarrassed; he pressed the button and the elevator opened for them instantly.

Sharon turned to him as the doors closed them in, looking _almost_ as poised as ever. "Look, Mike –"

"You and Andy Flynn - I know. Or, now I know. Don't . . . don't worry, Captain. I won't say anything."

"It's not good," she muttered nervously, "not . . . protocol."

". . . No one knows, Captain, except me. And I doubt anyone will find out." He glanced at her. "And Captain?"

"Yes?" She seemed a little more relieved.

"Your blazer's misbuttoned."

Sharon blushed furiously, fumbling to fix her clothes just before the elevator doors opened.

"Have a good night, Captain." He said awkwardly, and Sharon returned his sentiment. Tao walked to his car, fervently hoping that he wouldn't be roped into having this conversation with Andy Flynn tomorrow, as well.

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_A/N: There were requests for Sharon/Andy, as well as one for a Tao scene. I hope this fulfills! :) Please review, they make my day!_


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